Mill "into the wild" Bagnold (faircop) wrote in blurred_lines, @ 2008-05-14 15:02:00 |
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The head hitwizard was in a much better mood today, despite the fact that coming to work from Dorset on a Wednesday morning had thrown her routine entirely out for the whole morning, not to mention that she had a half-dozen little things hanging over from yesterday afternoon to clutter up her morning. And she couldn't even forget about the sulky anarchist in the cells, because top of her to-do list, when she finally cleared yesterday's hangover, was communicate Pepper's preliminary findings to Rufus. Joy.
Millicent took her journal, the appropriate files, and a detour through the floor kitchenette to pilfer a couple of jam donuts. She gave a cheerful nod to a few of the curious eyes that turned her way as she came into auror territory, and noticed with some satisfaction that Rufus wasn't at his desk on the open floor. This wasn't a conversation she wanted overheard by anyone at all.
The office door wasn't entirely closed; Millicent rapped her knuckles against it before bumping it open with her hip. But she did wait in the doorway as she said, "Got a minute, Scrim?"
Rufus was, as usual, buried amidst a sea of paperwork, though the waves had been parted, Moseslike, so that he could see across the front of his desk. When Millicent stood in the frame, he looked a bit ridiculous - quill in teeth, another quill sopping wet with ink on the floor, and fingers poised over a muggle typewriter as he squinted at the letters, punching them one. at. a. time. The knock hadn't startled him, but as he opened his mouth to speak, the heavy gold nib of the quill in his mouth brought the feather plummeting to the desk, where it splattered ink across his tie. Oh, bugger. He'd have to go bother Amelia again about it. Cleaning spells were not his forte.
"Always got a minute for you, Bags." He replied distractedly, deciding this was a perfect time to break for lunch. He thrust a donut (acquired via rather dubious means from beneath a stack of papers) into his mouth and gestured for her to sit on the only open space on his desk - since she seemed to prefer desks to chairs. "Waffuf?"
Years of close association with Rufus... well, should qualify Millicent for some manner of prize, or at least compensation, but also meant that she didn't even bat an eyelid at his situation or antics. First things first, obviously: stepping forward, Mill deposited the plate of jam donuts on the least precarious pile of paper. "Reinforcements," she quipped, and then turned back to close the door fully behind her.
Which just meant that they couldn't see the eavesdroppers. Millicent set down the rest of her burdens in the clear spot on Rufus's desk, and fished her wand out of its pocket. "Do you mind?" she asked; only polite before casting spells in someone else's office, after all.
Rufus gave a brief nod before helping himself to a large jam donut,the remnants of the last quickly swallowed before he launched into the next. He was ravenous - paperwork made him hungry and by Merlin he had a shitload of paperwork to do. Pushing a few more papers out of the way for Millicent's rear (not that it was a large one, but, you know, the papers had a hard enough time without being rumpled by someone's bum), the auror leaned back in his chair and peered up at the woman (sort of an ironic twist-of-fate moment). "Don't tell me something else awful's happened." He intoned lowly around his food.
Muffliato safely cast, Millicent stowed her wand away again and took the available desk perch, crossing one knee over the other and letting her foot dangle in a manner that would earn her daughter a scolding if the girl attempted it. "Not so much happened," she admitted, "as it's an ongoing situation that's slowly coming to light." Where to start? The beginning would do as well as anywhere else, she supposed. "We've been investigating a possible vigilante group in opposition to the Death Eaters. I didn't want to bother you with it until we had something that could actually be useful for you. Frankly, the more we find out the more of a headache it's causing me."
Rufus rubbed his eyes, and in so doing looked older than ever. His sporadic sleep was beginning to wear at him physically, and though he couldn't be labeled especially vain, the bags under his eyes were becoming difficult to ignore. "Damned vigilantes. Doing more bloody harm than good," he muttered, shifting through his papers for something with a blank back he could write upon. "Black and Lupin, I'm guessing?" He hadn't wondered too hard why they'd been there that night. "And probably McKinnon's daughter." His sympathy for their losses was strained.
"Bang on target," Millicent confirmed. She eased her journal out of the pile of material she'd brought with her. "Miss O'Hare and Mrs Potter were also on our list of possibles; given recent unfortunate events and my interview with Miss O'Hare yesterday, I'm tempted to move especially her and possibly both of them onto the list of solid suspicions." Flipping through her journal, she found the page with Pepper's somewhat impromptu report - Millicent was entirely comfortable with unorthodox means in unorthodox times. "We also have reason to strongly suspect the Prewett boys, Benjamin Fenwick and one Peter Pettigrew." She closed the journal again over her finger marking the place. "I've started family checks on all of them, with the results to be copied to you as well." Please Merlin, let them avoid any more deaths. If they could actually catch any of the bastards, that would be even better.
Rufus scribbled down names, shaking his head as they went on. "Peter Pettigrew... isn't he that chubby little boy whose mum works at Mungos?" He had an exceptionally difficult time believing that one. "Prewett..." and here he frowned, pulling out a folder - though Lord knew how he could tell which of the many parchment colored folders buried under the mound of papers was which. "We have a Gideon Prewett identified working for Rodolphus Lestrange ... surely not that Prewett?" Suspected vigilantes working for suspected death eaters. Rufus's hackles were rising. "O'Hare say anything incriminating?" He'd be happy to lock the whole damned group up in prison till this war was over.
"That very Prewett." Millicent rather agreed with everything that went unspoken here. The whole thing was a phenomenal mess and she was practically itching to put it straight. But if they were all as obstreperous as Agnes, they'd probably prefer to take Rufus's option. "And Miss O'Hare was rather too busy accusing me of inaction and attempting to poison her to get around to incriminating herself." With a sigh, Mill tossed her journal back on top of her small pile of files. "And there's another problem. It seems very likely that there is a leak from within the department to this vigilante group."
Eyebrows flew upward at the idea of Millicent poisoning someone, and Rufus gave his donuts a wayward glance before putting another one in his mouth. "Blo'dy rifficlufuf." And he continued to peer over the list before she went on to that last bit, pondering Mrs Potter and Benjamin Fenwick - neither of whom he'd paid very much attention to. Fenwick's name rung very vaguely familiar but he typically wrote about math and numbers and things that Rufus didn't expect vigilantes to waste their time with. However, at the mention of a leak, Rufus spluttered, choked, and swallowed painfully. "WHAT?" Leak? Not on his watch there bloody wouldn't be!
Rather how Millicent felt about it herself. Her mouth tightened with gathering rage just thinking about it. One of them... she'd meant what she'd said to Pepper about setting fires under everyone until she found the leak, if need be. "Fabian Prewett knew that Pepper had been involved in interviewing Roman Selwyn. My boys all know better than to talk idly about that sort of thing, and I'm sure yours do as well. Which only leaves unidle talk." Saying that the leak needed to be found immediately was redundant, but Millicent was the sort who liked to have everything stated firmly where everyone could see it. "If the department's security is compromised, even to ridiculously naive would-be heroes--" Gryffindors, honestly "--and especially seeing as they have such a low opinion of our ability to enforce the law upon these purist bastards, which is rich considering they won't actually..." help us wasn't actually vocalised as neurons sparked in Millicent's brain, illuminating a notion that created turbulence for the mental broomstick of her thoughts.
"Rufus," she said, sounding a little thunderstruck, "are we sure Selwyn's death was a suicide?"
Startled didn't even begin to cover it. Rufus was appalled at the idea that someone from their teams would ever betray information to - well - not the Enemy, but just as bad. Vigilantes? He did a quick mental run through of his office, then of Millicent's, and shook his head. Disbelief mingling with equal parts suspicion and anger across his face. "You'd wonder why that would be the information to leak." He wondered, too, why Fabian Prewett would feel free to advertise this information. "Who did Prewett reveal this information to? Maybe we can use that person to find this rat. Selectively pass on information?"
Compromised. That was the one word that struck him most violently. He didn't give a bloody damn to whom the information was going. Innocent civilians, idiotic vigilantes, evil death eaters. It was all the same in the end. Their security was breached and it enraged him. The only thing that kept him from storming out of the office and glaring around at his staff was Millicent's bombshell. His mouth went thin for a minute. A long minute. Then he shuffled out a thin folder from the Department of Mysteries: Selwyn's autopsy. "See for yourself." The suggestion that the vigilantes were, in fact, 'helping' was not a light one, and Rufus felt very, very unnerved. "We aren't sure about a damned thing."
Millicent accepted the autopsy file. "We're on it," she said, as she flicked it open. "Pepper's working on Prewett to see what else he can winkle out of him." That matter only barely had a third of her attention, however, the rest focused with avid intent on the report in her hands. Not that it took long to establish that, yes, this was not the most useful document ever to be penned in the Ministry. But it didn't rule out the awful possibility that had hatched in her mind. She'd rather hoped it would.
Closing it again, Mill rubbed at her forehead. "If they believed we may not prosecute Selwyn to the full extent of the law--" they were idiots; Millicent's jaw tightened, and she continued, "--they may have taken matters into their own hands. If they have a member within the DMLE, they may have been able to bypass the security on his cell. The vigilantes may have killed Roman Selwyn." There, how was that for stating it all where everyone could see?
"We have to find the leak. Immediately. And quietly." A stern glance across the desk showed who Millicent thought most likely to be noisy about it. "Or he - or she - will go to ground and we'll never find them."
A wry return glance was, hopefully, enough to set her at ease as to his ability to be subtle. He wasn't a complete social imbecile, after all, despite the many hours he spent locked away pining over his files. "We need some information that is compelling but -- Why is Fabian Prewett discussing these things with Pepper, anyway?" He frowned up at her before digging through the autopsy report again. He didn't like this. Didn't like it at all. "We're going to have to reexamine the guards. They saw nobody on that night. Chat with the medi-wizard who checked Selwyn in - didn't report internal injuries of any severity from what I recall. Not that the media gives a damn about those facts." Ah, efficiently surly Rufus yet again.
"Pepper knows all manner of unsavoury folk," Millicent said, but vaguely, thoughts elsewhere and fingers twisting at her wedding ring in distraction. "We all do. It's part of what makes a good hitwizard." Her eyes narrowed in thought. "What we need is some information - two pieces, or perhaps variations on the same piece - that the vigilantes would act upon. You give one piece to your people, I give the other to mine, we see which bait they take and establish--" that it's not my office. Merlin, if it was one of the hitwizards, they would be finding out first-hand and very personally just how much damage Millicent's impractical shoes could inflict. "--which office the leak is in, at least. That would narrow it down for starters."
Rufus made a slight face but didn't continue on with his side-thought. Pepper might have known unsavoury folk, but it seemed beyond reasonable that such unsavoury folk would trust him with that kind of information. Perhaps Fabian Prewett was just an idiot. Or perhaps... no, not Pepper. Rufus refused to believe that. "We need to choose that information very carefully. Something that Prewett would have reason to relay back to Pepper." Not that he had any REASON so to do, but he could have followed that circle of logic for hours. "Something about the vigilantes? Maybe." He hmmed. "Something about that O'Hare girl. You said she was one of them. Maybe we can pass information on about her being involved with death eaters to my lot, see if anyone contacts Pepper about it. Though if they have someone already in the office there's no reason to contact him. But they have already." For Merlin's sake this was getting aggravating. "Ministry raid, maybe? See if they evacuate?"
Millicent leant her hand against the edge of the desk, drumming her fingernails against the underside. "A raid's a good idea," she noted. "Easily verifiable results. I don't think we know of two properties of value to them, but we could investigate the matter. Or," she said firmly, as another idea occured to her, leading to a moment's thought before she continued, "a lot of them showed up at Diagon. That's how this business started. Would warning of a similar type of attack bring them out of the woodwork, do you think?"
"Aha." Rufus dropped the autopsy report back to the desk and waved a finger at her. "I like that. Diagon for the Aurors and Hogsmeade for the Hitwizards. Let's just hope they don't bloody show up in both places." He scribbled a note to himself and thrust it into some inner pocket, before leaning back again, half nervous energy and half ginger thoughtfulness. "I suppose we'll have to work together on this," he noted with a wry sort of amusement. "Makes it a bit tricky for me considering I've been busy being an ass all week."
"Really? I hadn't noticed a difference." Millicent's sweet tone was rather ruined by the accompanying smirk. "But keep it up for now. If we keep our squads not talking to each other on pain of our scowling displeasure the leak can't get contradictory information from the other side, and we have a reason for not co-ordinating directly." The next question was... "When do we want to have this fictitious attack? They need enough time to get the information, but not so much that they have a chance to second-guess or find their own confirmation." Nor so much that the squads would start gossiping amongst themselves. Law enforcement was as bad as school for gossip. "Is Friday night too soon?"
Rufus raised a hand and yapped it at her, making a face. His personality was wonderful, dammit. She was right, unfortunately, and he thought it was easier to continue being a jerk than attempt to make this subterfuge work while their offices were getting along peachily. "Friday works, though that leaves us the weekend to process the information unless you plan on staying here with me." A vague sort of smile creased his lips. "I assume you'll be telling Pepper?" Not that he thought Pepper was the leak, but it seemed if they were suspecting everyone, they needed to suspect everyone.
"I went home to Dorset last night; I can spare a weekend for this." Since everything now seemed roughly planned, Millicent hopped down off the desk, smoothing down her skirt. "Pepper especially needs warning about not fraternising with aurors," she commented drily. "And we're going to need someone to either stake out the locations or be here to tell our people it's a false alarm and they can stand down. Unless you've figured out how to be in two places at once and haven't shared it with me yet." The lift of her eyebrows wasn't entirely sceptical.
"We can have a romantic dinner of donuts and pub sandwiches," Rufus replied dryly, though he found the idea of company a little bit appealing. Pepper did go home each day, after all, and whether he liked to admit it or not, he was capable of feeling lonely. "Shall we disseminate this information tonight? I am thinking something along the lines of... " and Rufus did air quotes "received a tip today about a potential Diagon attack Friday. The source doesn't seem credible but keep your ears to the ground." His fingers tapped against the desk. "If O'Hare is any example, the vigilantes will be so outraged at our 'not doing anything' they will undoubtedly be there. Assuming the leak passes the information along."
Millicent snorted. "I'll bring provisions, I think," she said, and started gathering up her files and journal again. "That sounds excellent, though. Friday... shall we say 1am? Which technically makes it Saturday, I suppose. All but the staunchest innocent revellers should be cleared by then, surely."
Rufus winked and thrust some papers back into the hole left by her absence. "See you then, Madame Hitwizard." And he would have saluted but he was far too busy reaching for another donut...
With a fond roll of her eyes, Millicent headed for the door, but paused with her hand on the handle. When she turned back, there was an amused and slightly wicked smile on her face. First things first: she produced her wand and with a quick flick finited the incantatum. "You know what this needs?" she asked, as she tucked her wand away again. And obviously it was a rhetorical question, because she didn't leave time for Rufus to respond (not that he could, mouth full of donut like that) before she yanked the door open hard, shouted, "Well, fine," and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.
She managed to not laugh until she'd made it safely into her own office.